Art is Part of the Business
by AwesomePecan2
Summary: Alfred was a good guy. People liked him. His coworkers liked him. He was pretty well respected. He was always polite, and though he knew of at least one person who would just love to punch him, he was proud to say that he brightened most people's days. Turns out this guy wasn't one of those people. At least he knew it was his fault. Pre-UsUk ft Awesome Trio & Fail Brothers Trio.


**A/N: Hi guys! Just started college, and it's eating up so much of my time now. Psychology, specifically. Anyway! Hope you like this silly, awkwardly written little thing!**

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Alfred F Jones cringed when the shop came into view and if it weren't for the two vice-like grips on each of his arms, courtesy of two people he _thought _were his _friends _, he would not even be headed to the place.

"We're professionals! We're very important people and we should be setting an example for our employees!" Alfred tried to explain to his friends. Once again. Gilbert Beilschmidt, the Bastard, and Mathias Køhler, the Fucker, both just snickered at him, hauling him closer and closer to the shop.

Passersby were surely getting a kick out of two men in expensive suits dragging their friend – _Ex-friend, _ex_-friend!_ Alfred yelled in his mind – who was also in an expensive suit, to a small, quaint tattoo parlor. As much as he liked attention, he didn't like to be ogled at when he was not prepared for it. It's not any of your business people!

"Coworkers, stupid. And you lost the bet, man. You gotta go through with it now." Mathias practically sang.

"Need I remind you we were sorta drunk at the time?" Alfred struggled again to get free of them, his image and reputation be damned!

"What was that about setting an example? You're exaggerating! We design games and shit for a living. You're acting like we're some big CEOs or something! We just wear suits because we're dapper as fuck." Gilbert snickered.

"No one said anything about suits!"

"Don't sweat it man, the dude we're gonna hook you up with is an old buddy of ours. Best of the best!" Mathias declared, but Alfred didn't exactly hear what he said. He was more preoccupied with the 'hook you up with' comment.

Mathias was an idiot. Okay, maybe not so much of one. He wouldn't have the job he did otherwise, but still. He was an idiot. Surely he didn't mean what he said? He just chose the wrong words. Gilbert snickered in his ear again. Alfred groaned loudly and figured he might as well let them guide him to the shop. He did lose, and he always went through with his promises. Drunk or not. Maybe he could get a small random symbol for luck or something…

Fuck.

A bell jingled when they stepped inside. There weren't many people inside and the few that were, were either designing the tattoos or getting them. None of them even looked up from their work or gave them a second glance if they did. Gilbert snickered at Alfred when he straightened his suit and corrected his hair and glasses.

"Hey, Artie!" Mathias shouted, leaning on the front desk casually. "We have a client for you!" He sang again. Gilbert clapped his shoulder and strode passed the front desk, casually making his way to the back, calling for this 'Artie' person. Both were distracted so maybe he could slip away while he had the chance.

He could hear yells and howls of laughter in the back room, most likely yells from the other guy and laughter from Gilbert – how was he even allowed back there anyway? Before Alfred could reach the door, he felt a hand grip the back of his collar tightly. "Here he is!" Gilbert announced as Mathias dragged Alfred back and twisted him to face the person that would apparently be giving him his tattoo. Alfred mentally groaned at the thought. He had never even entertained the thought of getting a tattoo when he was younger and less responsible, so why the hell had he allowed himself to be roped into this now?

"Al this is Artie." Mathias introduced, clapping him on the shoulder again. "Artie this is Al, your next client."

"It's _Arthur_ you twats. How many times do I have to tell you?" The man hissed, thoroughly annoyed. Alfred couldn't tell if it reminded him of a snake, or a cat. While he berated Alfred's coworkers and they argued back, Alfred tuned the trio out and took the opportunity to give the tattooist a quick once over now that he was going nowhere.

He was just a little shorter than Alfred; not too skinny yet not too muscular. He was lean. From bottom to top, Alfred sized him up. He wore worn boots, tight jeans fitted around slender but strong looking legs, and a belt with a cupcake buckle which hung around a rather _nice_ pair of hips. _Like a woman's,_ Alfred thought. He doubted the man would appreciate the comparison, but there it was.

His loose tee with a V-neck that actually showed off his collar bone and his throat quite nicely – _yummy, in fact –_ hugged his torso, showing off his lean arms. What seemed to be a snake-inspired tribal tattoo slithered out from under the short sleeve of his left arm, curled around, and came to a rest in the middle of his forearm.

His slender throat rose up to meet his strong jawline, which formed into a pointed chin, above of which were lips set in a thin line as Gilbert and Mathias talked over him. From there, Alfred's eyes flickered in no particular order over his face. He had snake bite piercings and multiple piercings on both ears. He was cute, actually. His – soft – hair was styled in a loose, floppy Mohawk which just endeared Alfred to him more. His sharp nose looked just a tad crooked, and there was a small white line the length of a thumbnail on the point of his cheekbone just below his right eye and wow his _eyes_. They were green. He actually had some _very_ pretty–

"Big fucking eyebrows…" Alfred said. Which was quite obviously a stupid move, if Gilbert's and Mathias' quick 'goodbyes' and 'see-you-arounds' and mad dash out the door, accompanied by the utter _silence_ of the shop, was anything to go by.

Arthur did not saying anything. He wasn't frowning, scowling, blinking, he didn't even seem to be breathing. Arthur was an incredibly life-like statue decorating the front of the shop, staring at him with a thoroughly unimpressed look. It was faint, but he swore he heard someone in the background snigger, "Poor bastard."

Alfred was a good guy. People liked him. His coworkers liked him. He was pretty well respected. Though he occasionally acted like a jerk (without realizing it, he always usually meant well, honestly), and though he knew of at least one person who would just love to punch him from time to time, he was proud to say that he brightened most people's days. Turns out this guy wasn't one of those people. At lease he knew it was his fault.

When he ended up walking home (no thanks to that Bastard and that Fucker) with the front of his suit splattered with blood and a tissue held up to his nose soaked in said blood (given to him by the very man who gave him the bloody nose), Alfred started to think about what kind of tattoo he should get. Maybe a big, complicated one. With lots of color. Or more than one. Something that would require him to make a few visits to finish.

Just so he could see Art again.

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**A/N: Yes. The Awesome Trio and the Fail Brothers Trio are in it. Because I love them both as much as my Bad Touch Trio. And the Junior Bad Touch Trio. And show of hands, who just loves a serious!Alfred? Anyway,**** hope you enjoyed!**

**Also, I created a writing tumblr on which I wrote a Chat Post to go along with this: pecans-are-awesome. tumblr post / 32299207851 / artispartofthebusinessauchat post # notes**

**Just delete spaces!**

**Thank you for reading! :)**


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